President Wayne
by CobaltAC
Summary: A world where Joe Chill didn't meet the Waynes in that dark alley. A world where the young Prince of Gotham was raised to be a fine, intelligent man by two loving parents. A world where Bruce Wayne became the President of the United States.


_A/N: Bruce Wayne's parents don't get killed, he doesn't become a borderline psychotic vigilante. He remains a billionaire playboy who charms the country to put him in the White House. So let's lay it all out there: Straight White Male who's Filthy Rich, Handsome, Charming, and Powerful. He'd be a goddamn force of nature._

 _Also, before you get started, I'd like to apologize for my extended absences from writing. Real life is important. Also, I have a . Go check out my profile for more details on that. I'll still be posting this stuff for free, but there'll be original content exclusive to ._

 _I am also accepting commissions._

 _So, there._

 _Enjoy._

 **]|[**

An interview with the President of the United States.

An _exclusive_ interview with the President of the Unites States.

Any reporter with a functioning brain would have been excited – no, ecstatic – at the prospect. The very thought of the possibilities, the opportunities that could grow from such a catch… it was just too much.

Yet Victoria Vale found herself overtaken by anxiety, apprehension… even the tiniest bit of anger.

President Wayne had requested her specifically. That was the main thorn in her side. He didn't want anyone from the Gotham Gazette, or any paper from his home city. No, he wanted Vicki Vale of the Daily Planet. After all these years, why did the man see fit to torture her so?

It was a trap. It had to be. Some weird, billionaire, Christian Grey-level mind game he wanted to play… except instead of a CEO, he was the President.

But Vicki went along with it anyway, the opportunistic woman she was. Trap or not, it was the scoop of a lifetime. What Commander and Chief gave out exclusive interviews – aside from the press meetings?

So, fine, Bruce Wayne had his fun. The Daily Planet had their scoop.

They spoke in the Oval Office – _The Oval Office!_ – sitting across from each other on white leather sofas. Four men in suits stood vigilant along the walls, tall, broad-shouldered, almost no necks to speak of, as the Secret Service was like to be.

Wayne was immaculately dressed – that was no surprise to Vicki. He wore suits even better now than when he was still Gotham's Favorite Son. No wrinkles, no stains or anything. Black fabric - Vicki wouldn't even try to guess what the suit was made from – hugged his large frame, as did the white dress shirt. The tie was a tie. Hair neatly trimmed and combed, possibly touched up with conditioner, yet undeniably flawless.

The President had dressed to kill.

So had Vicki.

Black dress, silk, split up leg just enough to tease the delicious prize hidden away. Strapless, seemingly held up by faith alone. No bra, for that would ruin the effect. Golden hair clipped short, but still long enough to frame her face. Like Power Girl.

Vicki knew she looked good. Even behind the sunglasses, the Secret Service Agents' wandering eyes were quite obvious. But Bruce Wayne was _infuriating_. Not one slip up for the entire interview, not a single perverted glance or leer. Hell, he didn't even try to ogle her tits! _That_ was what irked Vicki the most. The audacity of ignoring her – the silent messages, that is. The President paid attention to her prying questions just fine.

The interview went smoothly – that was one way of putting it – and Vicki's notebook was filled with scribbles and scribbles of priceless information, straight from the mouth of POTUS himself. Words that would be both praised and ripped apart the moment they hit the streets. Even a President like Bruce Wayne had enemies.

Vicki had been mere seconds from walking out the door and moving on with her life when Wayne called her back. He wanted her to stay, have a drink, and catch up like old friends were ought to do.

 _Old friends._

Vicki had frowned at that, but only for a moment.

Against her better judgement, the intrepid reporter chose to indulge the man's request. They moved the bedroom. Two agents followed, standing by the door. Vicki and Bruce quickly found it easy to ignore them.

Wine for her. Scotch for him. Not that he even offered her scotch. Vicki pondered whether she should be offended by that or if she was just looking for something to be angry about. The wine was good. Very good. Sweet tingling on her tongue, leaving her brain a with a pleasant buzz and her lower belly a flutter as if full of butterflies.

"You've moved up in the world, Miss Vale." He complimented her, leaning back into his armchair. He had since lost the coat and tie, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. "From Gotham to Metropolis, that's a pretty big leap."

Vicki put on her best smile, "I could say the same about you Mister President. From Wayne Manor to the White House. This must be a whole different world."

Wayne grinned, taking a sip of his drink. "It's not so different, actually. House is smaller, though, and I'm not really allowed to sneak out at night anymore… not without one of them glued to my hip, anyway." He gestured to the two men standing guard by the door.

"Just doing our job, Mr. President," Replied the agent with black hair. He seemed to have a permanent scowl etched across his handsome face. The other agent, the redhead, was similar.

 _If I had to look after Wayne's sorry ass every day, I might feel the same._

"And you do damn good work, Mr. Todd," Wayne shot back with his trademark grin. "…Even if you're a bit earnest."

Agent Todd seemed to force back a biting retort when a woman entered through another door. She strode into the bedroom with the grace and elegance of a panther, long toned legs silently carrying her into the President's lap.

Brazen, even for the First Lady.

Selina Wayne draped herself over her husband, unabashed, unashamed, and uncaring that her hanging off his thick arm in nothing but a tiny black dress was a slap in the face to modern feminism.

"I hope you are done interrogating my husband of mine, Miss Vale."

The First Lady was sex made flesh. It seemed as if she had been poured into her black dress – which resembled a nightie more than anything – by Aphrodite herself. No bra for sure, Vicki noted, and the dress was almost short enough to reveal her status in the way of panties.

Vicki had seen photos of Selina Kyle – Wayne, now – when the tabloids picked up on Bruce Wayne's new arm candy. Kyle was a nobody from the slums of Gotham, a girl who won the genetic lottery well enough to catch the playboy's eye for more than a minute. Toned legs, flat stomach, big fuck-me tits, and a penchant for form-fitting clothing. Cat-nip for a rich boy like Bruce.

Vicki never thought the man would marry the bitch.

"My lovely wife returns!" Wayne smiled, pulling the slender woman into his arms. "And here I thought you got lost in the closet."

Vicki's breath caught in her throat when she saw the way Selina's breasts flattened and billowed to the sides as she pressed against her husband's larger frame. _Not fake at all._

Selina kissed Bruce on the cheek, perhaps a second longer than needed. Bright red lips caressing his skin, undoubtedly tickled by his light stubble. She pulled away, smiling wickedly.

"A dangerous venture made all for you, dear husband. God forbid a woman wants to look good for her man."

The corner of Vicki's mouth twitched. _'Look good for my man'? What is this, the Stepford Wives? She can't be for real…._

Wayne had that look in his eyes, then. Vicki crossed her legs, suddenly very conscious of her attire. She came to an interview dressed like she was ready to give someone the night of their life. Maybe, Bruce _did_ pick up on her silent signals…

"Mr. Todd, Mr. Harper, you two are dismissed. I would like some privacy," He ordered them. His eyes never left his wife's, one of his hands venturing dangerously close to the hem of her short dress.

Todd frowned – even more so than before. "But Mister President, protocol-."

"Protocol or not, I highly doubt Miss Vale intends to hurt me. Not that she could..." Wayne shot her an insufferable smirk, the same way he used to do. Vicki crossed her arms, looking unimpressed.

With a nod, the two agents exited the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

The President, his wife, and his ex.

Certainly not a volatile combination. Not at all.

Vicki clicked her tongue. "You don't think I could hurt you? I could be dangerous, you don't even know."

Wayne laughed, deep and heartily. "Well, Vicki, other than being almost half my size, yeah, I'm sure you could be dangerous. I'm not so sure what kind of weapons you could be hiding in that dress of yours, though…"

Vicki gave him an indignant look. _Great._ _ **Now**_ _he decides to ogle. Perfect._

"That dress isn't designed to hide _anything_ , Bruce." Purred Selina, practically snuggling into the crook of his arm – the same one he had wrapped around her like a caveman. With the guards gone, he wasn't even trying to hide his groping of her ass.

"Neither is yours." He growled.

"That's why I put it on, _honey._ "

The room had gotten warmer – or Vicki had gotten warmer. Her dress didn't reveal nearly as much as Selina's, but it wasn't like she was wearing a burqa. And her lacey underwear was increasingly becoming a poor idea.

"Why did you bring me here, Bruce?" Vicki blurted out, drawing two pairs of eyes towards her. _Oh, that was not smart._ They looked at her like a piece of meat. Vicki hadn't intended on getting fucked tonight – Well, maybe she did, but this wasn't part of the plan.

"A man can't help an old friend get an exclusive with the President of the United States?" He inquired, his voice oh so innocent, the same voice he used back when he talked his way out of punishment for sneaking out in the middle of the night to canoodle with Vicki. _And Silver, and Renee, and Kate…_

Vicki rose from her seat, standing tall – as tall as her heels would allow her to be – over the power couple. Her eyes bore accusingly into Bruce, the man not flinching. The bastard. She crossed her arms, chin raised, hip cocked to the side, just the tiniest bit sexual just as the little 'fuck you' sprinkled on top. She was angry, indignant, irritated.

 _…_ _Vexed._

"People who do what you and I did don't go back to being 'friends', not a chance in hell. So, I'll ask again: why did you give me the scoop, Bruce? Why not Lois Lane, god knows you're cozy with her, or even Cat Grant?" She scowled at him, voice dripping with venom. "What, did you have the Daily Planet send me down here so you could parade your new wife in front of me like some petty, juvenile fantasy thing? Cuz you're out of luck, mister!"

Vicki would normally quite while she was ahead. Storm out of the room and leave the man feeling like shit. But this was Bruce Wayne. This was the fucking President. She was on a role and god help anyone who would dare interrupt her rant.

* * *

"I haven't thought of you for _years_ , you know that? I'm on the fast track, buddy, the no-speed-limit highway of my career. You think I needed your little hand out, Wayne? I was golden without you! _Jerk!_ Don't think for a _second_ that I wasted even a moment dwelling on 'what could have been' with the goddamn Prince of Gotham! I bet you would love that, wouldn't you? _Pig!_ 'Oh, Mister Wayne! I can't possibly go another day without you in my life!' Give me a fucking break. Oh, and another thing…"

Bruce smirked as he watched Vicki Vale talk herself into a corner. He loved when she got like this. All pissy and foot-stomping, pouting at you with those cute, angry eyes. He doubted she knew that he would needle her on purpose, just to get a rise out of her. It always paid off in the end. Vicki Vale fucked best when angry.

"She really doesn't shut up, does she?" Selina whispered into his ear.

Bruce gave her ass a soft squeeze, smirking as her body responded with the tiniest of squirms.

"There is one way to calm her down," He told his wife. He gave her a meaningful look.

It registered quickly in Selina's mind. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure. _Perv_."

Vicki was still ranting, pacing back and forth in front of them, her neatly done hair becoming messier, wilder, sexier… She would occasionally send an impolite name Bruce's way, but as President he was used to it.

Selina looked from the reporter to her husband, biting her cherry red lips. With a sigh, the First Lady untangled herself from the President's arms. Graceful, she slinked over to the blonde, the hem of her little black dress riding up just enough for Bruce to get a look at the bottom slopes of her well-formed rear.

Vicki turned, clearly not expecting Selina to be so close – and neither did she expect Bruce's wife to get even closer. Stunned into silence, Miss Vale did nothing as Selina Wayne pulled her into a kiss. A soft, feminine embrace at first, quickly growing deeper and sensuous. One hand wandered down to cup Vicki's generous bosom – almost as generous as Selina's – through the fabric of her dress. Selina squeezed, Vicki moaned. Selina swallowed the wondrous sound, ravaging the other woman's mouth with her tongue.

Bruce sat, enjoying the display of feminine eroticism. Vicki had always been open, willing to explore. At least, that's how she had been with him. Bruce didn't know how she was with other boyfriends, if she had taken any.

"More tongue," Bruce ordered.

The women obeyed. As Bruce expected.

Vicki pulled Selina closer, whimpering as the brunette's hands travelled brazenly. Selina fingers snaked up the blonde's leg, reaching around, under the black silk to grab at her ass. Vicki pulled away quickly when Selina squeezed, dainty fingers so close to _there_ … Selina's mouth attacked her neck without a moment's hesitation, drawing a gasping moan from Vicki's throat.

Then their lips met again, ravenous and… _wet._

Bruce leaned back into his armchair, his hardened member straining against the crotch of his pants. His wife and his ex. Volatile, indeed.

Vicki pulled away, breathless, lipstick smeared. "W-what is this?"

"That was me Frenching you," Selina cooed, fingers playing at the zipper along Vale's back. "Oh, don't look so surprised, sweetie. Bruce told me all the nasty things you two did way back when. Sucking face with me should be nothing to you, especially after Officer Montoya… or Miss St. Cloud."

Vicki shot Bruce a scowl, red faced – from embarrassment, not arousal. " _You told her about that!?_ "

Bruce shrugged, "I don't keep secrets from my dear wife."

"So… what? You think you're going to get a threesome just like that?" Vicki spat at him while Selina sucked and bit at her neck. "You think because you gave me an exclusive interview, I'm just going to get down on my knees like before?"

"No," He said, undoing his belt. "I think you're going to get down on your knees because you've wanted to for years. You haven't forgotten me, Vicki, and I haven't forgotten you. And my lovely wife? She's curious."

* * *

As Vicki Vale of the Daily Planet lowered herself onto her knees, Selina came with her, lips grazing her ear. "I want to see the infamous Victoria Vale in action," She purred.

"Infamous?" Vicki managed to shoot Bruce a pointed look as she pulled his pants down. He smiled down at her as his hard cock sprung free. The bulbous head nearly slapped her across the face.

"Bruce told me every dirty little secret, honey…" Selina groped her from behind, sliding her dress down to expose her breasts. Her hands were warm, her fingers eager to knead and squeeze. Vicki's nipples grew hard, her sex damp. "Like all the ways you used those pretty lips of yours."

Vicki reached to take Bruce, dainty fingers wrapping around the thick shaft. Thick and veiny, hard as a rock – as cliché as that sounded. His balls, impressively large and covered with a dark fuzz, hung proud beneath his manhood. Vicki's mouth watered. She stroked him, slowly pumping – inspecting him, more like.

The memories came back in a flood, the ones she put away into a vault deep in the back of her mind: those precious, filthy few years she had with _Bruce Wayne_. Sucking him, fucking him, riding him… those nights when he took control, bending her over some chair and having his way, taking every hole like they belonged to him because oh, _God_ they totally did. She remembered him treating her like some cheap street whore and that she loved every depraved moment of it, _loved_ every inch of his big, fucking, rich-boy dick shoved down her throat.

And now there she was, in the President's bedroom, jerking off his big, fat cock. Ethical reporter of the Daily Planet, Vicki Vale. About to slobber all over Bruce Wayne's _big fucking cock_.

 _Well… What woman doesn't want to fuck a handsome President?_

She took Bruce in her mouth. She teased him first, taking it slow, swirling her tongue around the swollen, throbbing head, massaging the frenulum until she heard him groan. God, she loved the sound of his voice, so deep, rumbling in his chest.

Vicki pressed on, taking more of him into her mouth, lips caressing his length as he slid deeper, deeper… Her tongue worked, swirling, massaging, lapping, flicking against the dick, so much dick in her mouth… She bobbed her head, lathering the member in saliva, her spit, making it nice and slick, just like she used to do. She felt Bruce's hand on the back of her head, his fingers running through her hair. She had missed this, missed choking on his _big, rich cock_!

"She's very eager, isn't she?" Vicki heard Selina say, the other woman sounding more amused than jealous.

"Always happy to please, aren't you Vicki?" Bruce rumbled.

Vicki hummed the affirmative, diving deeper, taking more, more of that long fucking dick. She was only halfway, her fingers squeezing his bare thighs, her eyes already watering. She needed to take him all, get every inch of Bruce down her slutty throat. She needed to teach him to forget about her.

"Look at her go," Selina commented, clearly impressed from the tone of her voice. "Now we know how she got through college."

Vicki managed to flip the First Lady off without deviating from her messy task. She pulled back with a gasp, letting Bruce slip from her mouth. He was coated, slick with saliva, and throbbing. He was nowhere close to cumming yet, she knew. Bruce was as much a machine as he was an animal. Vicki knew the moment she walked into the White House she would need to go to work. On her knees, her hair a mess, her lipstick ruined, the President's cock stood like a pillar of flesh, obscene, disgusting, enticing, and delicious. It throbbed against the cool air and Bruce grunted at the sudden stop.

The cock was taunting her. Bruce was taunting her.

Vicki was going to suck him bone dry.

Again, she dived down, his member sliding into her gullet with ease. She reached the halfway point, then pushed forward, taking more, more…. Bruce's grip on her hair tightened, the enormous man groaning beneath her. Music to her ears.

"How does she feel, Bruce?" Selina asked, breathless. She might have been fingering herself, getting off on watching another woman suck off her man. Slut.

"As good as I remember," Bruce grunted. Vicki could feel how tense he was, her fingers squeezing his hard, muscled thighs.

 _I'll show you good, you fucking bastard. I'll show you what you've been missing out on all these years, dumping me for some fucking African model. Fucker thought he could toss me away to fulfill some jungle fever fetish, but I bet his exotic arm candy couldn't treat his cock half as good as me._

Vicki worked harder, sucking Bruce off like it was her fucking job.

"Christ, Vicki…"

He sounded affectionate, loving… Vicki hummed happily at that. She was going to swallow every drop of his cum….

Onward she pushed, enduring the sensation of thick, white cock invading her poor mouth. She shuddered, gurgled around him, feeling Bruce twitch in her throat.

 _Almost, almost…._

Her nose hit his waist, pubic hair tickling her. She had taken all of him, every inch of Bruce's manhood shoved down her throat. She choked on him, almost losing her position, but still she held on.

She could taste him, all thick meat.

 _Delicious._

"She took it all..." She could faintly hear Mrs. Wayne breathe. "Amazing."

If Vicki could smile, she would have.

 _Try to get your pretty little wife to do something like this for you, Brucie..._

* * *

"I don't see how being the President makes you a badass. He sits there in his office all damn day, signing shit. That's it, that's all he does. I guess his hand cramps up a bit. Todd, what do you think?"

Todd thought of his apartment and how soft his bed would be. Soft and quiet.

" _We're_ badass, Todd. We shoot _guns_. We're trained operatives."

"Shut the hell up, Harper."

* * *

Bruce was all but forcing himself not to cum. Vicki Vale's mouth was a force of nature. One of only two women he knew could take every inch of him without a problem.

 _This woman could stop wars with her tongue…_

He relished the sensation of Vicki's throat convulsing around him, her lips caressing the base of his cock. The sight of her, on her knees, mascara running down her cheeks, beautiful eyes staring up at him as if his dick was the greatest gift in the world.

"Atta girl, Vicki," He praised, chuckling despite himself. "Just like college. You haven't lost a step."

"Good God!" His wife looked aghast, disgusted, intrigued, and tempted all at the same time. "Can she even breathe?"

Vicki shuddered, swallowing his cock, tongue massaging the underside of the shaft.

"This… This is an art form, Selina." Bruce told her, gently petting his ex. "Art requires sacrifice to be truly great. Fuck, that's it… take all of it, sweetheart…."

Vicki slurped away, strings of saliva connecting his cock to her lips. The reporter rasped, sucking in air like it was Bruce's manhood. She licked the head for good measure, smiling.

"Fuck… You're bigger than I remember."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Vale." He smirked down at her. He had lost the dress shirt, now completely nude save for his black socks. Turning to Selina, "Feel free to get in on the action, wife. Perform some wifely duties."

Mrs. Wayne joined Miss Vale on the floor, two gorgeous faces staring up at him. His wife gave him a pout before lowering her mouth to his balls. Lips and tongue working the Pride of the Wayne family. Bruce was in heaven, or the closest he would ever get to it.

"You consider sucking his balls to be 'wifely duties'?" Vicki asked.

Selina pulled away, "You don't?"

Bruce couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

"But why do women throw themselves at _him_? He's a stuffed suit! Is it because he's disgustingly rich? Or that he's in good shape? Is it because he's the President? But he's a Republican, isn't he? That's like a Jew sleeping with Hitler or something."

" _Shut the fuck up, Harper._ "

* * *

"Fuck my tits! Fuck 'em, Bruce!"

Bruce did as he was told, thrusting hard and fast between two soft globes of flesh. Vicki pressed them together around him, the head of his cock poking up between them to strike her chin, smacking against her lips.

"Yes, just like that! Just like in college! These are _your_ tits, Bruce! They belong to _you_! Fuck them!"

"Aren't you colorful?" Selina tilted her head to the side, one brow raised. It was then that the stories Bruce told her about Miss Vale became a lot less outlandish and more… awe inspiring. It was clear now, clear as crystal.

Vicki Vale was a total whore.

"She's a total whore, Selina." Bruce said for good measure, hammering it home.

 _No wonder she was one of his favorites._

Vicki released him from her breasts, letting them fall back to their original positions. They were almost hypnotic by themselves, her tits, jiggling and swaying, hard nipples begging to be sucked and bitten. She took his cock in her hands, pumping him vigorously – Bruce had still yet to cum.

"I'm your whore, Bruce. Any way you want, any time!" Vicki gave him an almost crazed smile. "Cum all over me, Mister President!"

"Tempting, but not part of the plan," Selina heard her husband announce. "One the bed, Miss Vale, on your hands and knees."

 _Oh._

Selina pulled her fingers free from her dripping pussy. Licking them clean, she sauntered over to the closet.

"This should be good," She called back to the sweaty couple. "Just let me get the camera."

* * *

"The whole 'billionaire playboy' thing can't be that charming. How can women enjoy being objectified like that, being treated like nothing more than sex dolls?"

"You've been spending too much time with Dinah and Ollie."

"I just don't understand how anyone with a brain could have voted for someone like Bruce Wayne, the prick."

"If you keep running your mouth, Harper, I'm going to break your nose and quit. I'll go be a cop or something. Or a vigilante. Yeah. I'll be a hooded avenger, stalking through the night. With guns."

"That sounds retarded, man."

" _You're_ retarded."

* * *

He was fucking her. Nice and hard and _deep_. So fucking deep. He stretched her, filled her pussy up and then some. And then he fucked her, nonstop relentless pounding until she was screaming into the bedsheets.

Vicki loved every fucking moment of it.

"MMM, YES! FUCK ME!"

It had been years since she had gotten railed so thoroughly, having a big, fat dick pounding deep inside her dripping pussy. No lay had been half as good as Bruce. This was like Christmas and her birthday and getting a raise all rolled into one, his long cock striking deep with every thrust.

She gripped the bedsheets, fingernails digging into the expensive fabric. Her toes curled, sweat dripping from her forehead. She could hear Bruce grunted behind her, thrusting, sending every nerve firing off from her cunt to everywhere else.

"I love how fucking tight you are, Victoria." She loved it when he used her full first name. That meant he was happy. "Did you ever find somebody as big as me?"

She shuddered as she felt him slide in to the hilt and hold there. "N-No, never. My tight pussy was made for your _big_. _Fucking_. _Cock!_ "

"I don't think she's lying, Brucie." Selina, Vicki could feel her presence. She was filming them, Vicki knew.

"Call me 'Brucie' again and your ass is next, wife." The President half joked.

"Brucie, Brucie, Brucie…"

"Your ass is mine tonight, Selina." Bruce growled. Vicki was afraid she might cum right then.

"Looking forward to it, husband. Finish her off first and I'll make it _extra special_ for you."

"Yes, dear."

His rough hands grabbed Vicki's ass, squeezing the soft, red flesh. He picked up the pace, fucking, rutting like a damned animal. He drove himself deep with every thrust and Vicki felt the fires within roar into a wild flame. _Hot._ So fucking _hot._

She was getting _fucked_ just like she dreamed about, her cunt taking his cock greedily, her clit inflamed, on _fire_. She didn't need to touch it, not with Bruce. His cock could make her cum on its own.

"OH, FUCK! SHIT! FUCK! **_FUCK!_** "

Eruption. Pompeii tier. A fire in her belly, fireworks, spreading from her cunt to every part of her body, tingling. Vicki Vale shrieked into the bed, her cunt dripping, gushing as she came on Bruce's powerful cock. He came, too, shooting into her. A flood of his hot, thick cum, a scalding tidal wave striking her very core. Vicky shuddered as he filled her, all the way to the fucking brim.

 _God, Bruce…_

"Wow…" She could faintly hear Selina. "I think you broke her."

Bruce chuckled. The sound of him slipping from her abused, thoroughly wrecked pussy was wet, sloppy, obscene, _disgusting_ … and it turned her on like nothing else in the world. Vicki Vale slumped against the bed, her cunt destroyed and full of virile cum.

Totally spent, Vicki could do little aside from listen..

"Nah, she'll be fine." Bruce waved off his wife's concerns. "I can't say the same for your tight little ass, though."

"Promises, promises…."

Despite herself, Vicki laughed.

 **]|[**

 _Up next, the President and his lovely personal aides! Miss Isley and Miss Quinzel!_


End file.
